PS 

700 
A6P75 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


J,. 


I'1 

* 


.3 


POEMS  ON  SEVERAL  OCCASIONS 


Heartman's  Historical  Series  Number  33. 


POEMS 

ON 

SEVERAL  OCCASIONS 


By   a   Gentleman    of   Virginia 


Edited  by 
EARL    GREGG    SWEM 


Sixty-one  Copies  Reprinted  for 

CHARLES   F.    HEARTMAN 

New  York,  1920. 


Number    ....    of  61   Copies   Printed   on   Handmade   Paper. 
Also  seven  Japan  Paper  Copies  printed. 


INTRODUCTION 


v>  "  Poems  on  Several  Occasions",  by   a  Gentleman   from 

£9     Virginia,  has  the  distinction  of  being  the  first  collection  of  poems 
^     printed  in  Virginia.1     The  copy  from  which  the  present  volume 
g     is  reprinted,  is  in  the  Boston  Athenaeum,  and  is  the  only  copy 
~     known  to  be  extant.     Research  has   been  undertaken    to  dis- 
cover the  author,  but  this  has  been  fruitless.     The  familiar  al- 
:*     lusions  in  the  poems  to  the  University  of  Oxford,  indicate  that 
the  writer  was  either  a  native   Englishman    who  had  attended 
^    the  University,  and  later  removed  to  Virginia,  or  that  he  was  a 
Virginian,  who  had  been  educated  at  Oxford  and  had  returned 
o     to  his  native  country.2 

Only  a  short   time   before   this   volume   was  published, 

w      William  Parks,  the  public  printer  of  Virginia,  issued  the  first 

number  of  the  Virginia  Gazette  bearing  the  date   of  August  6, 

*      1 736.     In  the  issue  of  the  Gazette  of  October  1 5,  1  736,  the  book 

is  advertised  as  published.     Additional   interest   is   attached  to 

the  copy  from  which  this  reprint  is  made,   from  its  having  the 

autograph  of  George  Washington  on    the   title    page,  showing 

that  the  volume  was  once  in  Washington's  library. 


447258 


The  poems  bear  the  impress  of  a  very  young  man,  just 
fresh  from  the  University.  We  scarcely  need  to  be  told  by  the 
writer  in  the  preface  that  the  poems  are  "the  casual  productions 
of  youth".  Though  displaying  the  influence  of  Pope  and  other 
contemporary  English  poets,  the  ideals  expressed  are  plainly 
typical  of  the  Virginians  of  the  early  1 7th  century.  There  is  a 
noticeable  absence  of  the  severe  and  religious  element  so  char- 
acteristic of  both  prose  and  poetry  of  the  northern  and  middle 
colonies.  The  poet  does  not  fear  to  extol  the  happiness  of  love, 
and  the  pleasures  of  life. 

The  references  to  Shakespeare  are  very  few  in  early 
American  literature.  It  is  not  known  that  there  was  a  copy  of 
the  works  of  the  great  dramatist  in  New  England  before  1 709. 
The  first  volume  of  Shakespeare's  Works  offered  for  sale  in  New 
England  was  in  1 722.3  James  Franklin,  the  brother  of  Benja- 
min, and  the  publisher  of  a  Boston  newspaper,  was  one  of  the 
few  owners  of  a  copy  of  Shakespeare's  Works.  Though  several 
lists  of  books  in  libraries  in  Colonial  Virginia  have  been  printed, 
our  knowledge  of  what  books  were  in  use  there  is  far  from  com- 
plete. The  titles  of  books  in  inventories  of  estates  were  not  only 
often  abbreviated  beyond  indemnification  for  the  modern  student 
but  were  many  times  incorrectly  written.  Frequently  in  making 
an  inventory  the  books  were  grouped  as  one  lot  and  cited  as  so 
many  "old  books".  There  was  one  early  pnvate  library  in  which 
there  was  a  copy  of  Shakespeare,  of  which  we  have  positive  in- 
formation.4 This  was  the  library  of  Daniel  Parke  Custis,  whose 
widow  married  George  Washington. 

Our  author  of  "Poems  on  Several  Occasions",  manifests 
familiarity  with  the  dramas  of  Shakespeare  and  an  appreciation 
of  his  superiority.  His  praise  of  Shakespeare  in  an  American 


book,  appearing  as  early  as  1 736,  is  worthy  of  notice.  This  may 
be  the  earliest  reference,  by  an  American  writer,  in  which 
the  genius  of  Shakespeare  is  recognized,  and  the  Elizabethan 
stage  commended. 

For  assistance  in  the  preparation  of  the  copy,  acknow- 
ledgment is  made  of  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  Charles  A.  Bolton, 
librarian  of  the  Boston  Athenaeum. 

NOTES. 

1.  The  first  Virginia  imprint  is  believed  to  be  the  poem  Typographia.    By 
John  Markland.     An  ode  on  printing.     Inscribed  to  the  Honourable  William 
Gooch,   Governor   and   Commander   in   Chief  of  the   Colony  of  Virginia. 
Williamsburg:    Printed   by   William   Parks,    1730,    15    p.     The   identity   of 
John   Markland   has   never   been   discovered.     There   are   no   traces  of   a 
Markland   family  at  that  time  in  Virginia.     I  am   inclined   to  think  that 
John  Markland  was  from  Maryland,  where  the  name  is  not  unusual,  and 
that  he  came  to  Virginia  with  William  Parks,  when  the  latter  moved  his 
printing  press  from  Annapolis  to  Williamsburg. 

2.  For  names  of  Virginians  who  attended  English  schools  including  Oxford, 
See  W.  G.   Stanard,   in  William   and   Mary  College   Quarterly   Historical 
Magazine,  v.  2,  p.  22,  23,  and  in  the  same  journal,  v.  6.  p.  174,  175;  see  also 
Virginia  Magazine  of  History  and  Biography,  v.  17,  1909  p.  412. 

3.  W.  B.  Cairns.    History  of  American  Literature.  1912,  p.  23. 

4.  See  Catalogue  of  Library  of  Daniel  Parke  Custis,  in  Virginia  Magazine 
of  History  and  Biography,  v.  17,  1909,  p.  412.    The  catalogue  was  made 
after  Washington's  marriage,  Jan.  6,  1759. 

EARL  GREGG  SWEM 


POEMS 


ON 


Several  Occafions. 


fi  tion  hie  tantus  fruftus  oflenderetur,  &  ft  ex  Ins 
Studiis  deleft atio  fola  feteretur\  tawen,  at  ofh/ory  have 
animi  remij/ionem  humaritjjimam  (S  liber altjjimam  'judi- 
carctss. 

Gic. 


By  a  Gentleman  ^VIRGINIA, 


WILLIAMS  BURG: 

Printed    and    Sold    by    WILLIAM    PARKS. 


Ill 


PREFACE. 


The  following  Pieces  are  the  cafual  Productions  of 
Youth.  Having  communicated  them  to  fome  of  my 
Friends  whofe  Judgment  in  thefe  matters  I  thought  leaft 
liable  to  err,  their  Approbation  has  at  length  determined  me 
to  try,  what  Opinion  the  Public  will  have  of  them.  I 
am  too  senfible  of,  and  have  always  been  too  ftre- 
nuous  an  Advocate  for  that  Freedom  and  Impar- 
tiality, with  which  the  Public  paffes  its  Judgment 
on  Compofitions  of  this  Nature,  to  fay  any  thing, 
which  may  prejudice  the  Reader  in  their  Favour. 
On  the  contrary,  I  am  well  affured,  that  giving 
an  undeferved  Applaufe  to  bad  Poems,  is  a  much 
greater  and  more  dangerous  Piece  of  Injustice  to 

A2  the 


IV 

the  Author,  than  even  difcouraging  thofe,  which 
are  good.  It  is  confirming  us  in  an  Error,  which 
we  Authors  are  but  too  liable  to  give  into  of  our- 
felves,  That  our  Productions  are  excellent,  and 
worthy  of  the  Public  Notice. 

IT  is  therefore  my  fincere  Request  to  the  can- 
did Reader,  that  he  will  perufe  the  following 
Poems  with  the  utmoft  Strictnefs  and  Severity; 
and  if  he  finds  them  unworthy  his  Approbation, 
the  Author  takes  this  Opportunity  of  being  the 
first  in  giving  his  Vote,  that  he  never  hereafter 
publifh  any  more. 


POEMS 


(5) 


POEMS 

ON 

Several  Occafions. 

-H~H~W~H-fr'H"H~M~l»W«^ 

Hymn  to  the   MORNING 

AWAKE  my  Soul,  and  with  the  conftant  Morn, 
Carol  th'  ALMIGHTY'S  Praife;  awake  and  tune 
The  vocal  Shell  to  fympathetic  Sounds, 
And  heav'nly  Confort.     See!  the  radiant  Sun 
Stains  with  etherial  Gold  the  varied  East, 
And  vaft  Expanfe;  behold!  with  Giant  stride 
He'advances  ruddy,  and  with  him  returns 

The 


(6) 

The  fweet  Viciffitude  of  Day,  and  all 
Th'obfequious  Train  of  filial  Colours.      Now 
The  vivid  Green  extends  her  welcome  Sway 
O'er  the  fequefter'd  Lawns,  and  fmiling  Meads: 
And  now  the  purpled  Violet  refumes 
Its  coftly  Dye;  and  all  th'extended  Plains 
Confefs  th'  ALMIGHTY's  Hand,  of  Ornament 
Profufe.     Behold!  with  flefhy  Pink  they  fmile 
Enamel'd,  and  the  Daify's  dwarfy  Bloom 
Of  pallid  Hue,  and  gorgeous  Marygold. 

ON  ev'ry  graffy  Sprig  a  pearly  Drop 
Hangs  wav'ring,  and  with  varied  Ray  proclaims 
Its  great  Progenitor.     The  liquid  Gem, 
Pendent  and  tremulous,  with  rival  Gleam 
Mimicks  the  Luftre  of  its  Parent  Orb. 
Vain  Man's  beft  Emblem!  who  with  BORROWED  LIGHT 
Which  Ev'RY  TOUCH  DESTROYS,  against  his  G  0  D 
Dares  wage  an  impious  and  gigantic  War. 


FROM 


(7) 

FROM    downy  Neft  of  artificial  Weft 
The  fedulous  Airlings  rife,  and  to  their  Task 
Hye  joious.      Or  with  gamefome  Wing  they  cut 
The  yielding  Fluent,  and  with  tranfient  Touch 
Skim  the  moift  Element  in  fportive  Whirl: 
Or  elfe  to  ftudious  Wand'rer's  curious  View 
Delightful,  they  collect  their  grainy  Food 
And  mafticative  Stones.     But  heark!  the  Grove, 
Refpondent  to  the  tuneful  Choir,  refound 
Celeftial  Symphony.     The  fpeckled  Thrufh 
Of  various  Note,  and  Blackbirds  piercing  Sound, 
Conjoin'd  to  Philomela's  parting  Lay, 
Mournfully  fweet,  confpire  to  ufher  in 
The  pompous  Morn.     Nor  fhall  my  only  Voice 
Be  wanting  in  the  general  Hymn:  Of  Song 
Unskilful,  yet  with  grateful  Hand  I'll  touch 
The  trembling  String,  and  chant  th'  ALMIGHTY's  Praife. 
Vagrant,  like  the  induftrious  Bee,  I'll  cull 

Nature's 


(8) 

Nature's  choice  Sweets,  and  (till  with  prying  Ken 
Defcry  the  Wonders  of  her  fruitful  Womb. 

BUT    fee!  the  great  Exemplar  of  my  Verfe, 
The  Lab'rer  Bee,  affiduous  rife.     Behold! 
From  waxen  Cell  and  more  inglorious  Eafe, 
Active  he  haftens  and  with  hov'ring  Buzz 
Extracts  mellinc  Juice.     From  Bloom  to  Bloom 
He  wanders  dainty,  and  with  nice  Difcern 
Rejects  each  vulgar  Sweet.     Hail,  mighty  Chief! 
Hybl&an  Wand'rer,  hail!     Still  may' ft  thou  fip 
The  pure  and  elemental  Dews;  whilft  I, 
With  daring  Song,  and  more  advent'rous  Foot, 
Attempt  the  fteepy  Heights,  where  MlLTON  firft, 
Great  Chieftain,  folitary  trod;  and  taught 
The  lift'ning  World,  what  MlCHAEL's  potent  Arm 
In  Fight  could  do,  and  human  Wit  atchieve. 


To 


(9) 

To  Mr. at  London. 

An  Imitation  of  HORACE. 
SOME    praife  Auguftas  lofty  Spires, 
Affecting  Kindred  with  the  Skies; 
Another  Sot  her  Streets  admires, 

The  glorious  Dirt,  th'enchanting  Noife; 
Where  Fops  repugnant  met,  agree  alone 
In  this ;  that  all  are  wand'ring,  all  are  wrong. 

SOME    again,  with  rapt'rous  Tongue, 

Extol  SOFT  WINDSOR'S  GREEN    RETREATS; 
Taught  by  POPE's  romantic  Song, 
SEQUESTER'D  SCENES  and  MUSE'S  SEATS. 

But  thefe,  the  Mufe's  Magpies,  catch  her  Words; 
Neglectful,  what  the  noble  Senfe  affords. 

B  OTHERS 


(10) 

OTHERS    make  the  crowded  Mall, 

And  Theatre  their  bigot  Theme; 
Where  Follies  of  all  Kinds  excel, 
And  painted  Faces  fit  fupreme: 
Where  idol  Doxies,  and  affected  Beaux 
Reign  firft  in  Folly,  as  they're  firft  in  Cloaths. 

FOR    me,  not  Rich's  utmost  Art, 
Not  all  the  Daemon's  of  the  Stage, 

Can  from  her  dear  Embrace  difpart, 

Can  from  my  Oxford  difengage: 
Where  If  is  rolls  her  flow  majestick  Stream, 
And  charm'd  by  Song,  forgets  th'uxorious  Tame. 

SOMETIMES    in  penf  ive  Mood  I  ftray, 

And  trace  her  Honours  to  the  Sourfe: 
Sometimes  from  neighbour  Hills  furvey 

The  myftick  Mazes  of  her  Courfe. 
Whence  Oxford's  tow'ry  Head  adorns  the  Scene, 
And  Blenheim  dignifies  the  diftant  Plain. 

BUT 


(11 ) 

BUT    thou,  my  Friend,  remember  ftill 
With  gen'rous  Wine  to  banifh  Care. 
True  Joys  are  few;  then  boldly  fill: 
The  racy  Juice  will  heal  Difpair. 

As  Clouds  don't  always  blacken  Summer  Skies, 

So  let  not  Care  ftill  ruffle  youthful  Joys. 

When  Dra^e,  that  brave  undaunted  Man, 
Who  firft  durft  tempt  the  Southern  Seas, 
Extending  Britain  s  wide  Command 

From  fartheft  West  to  distant  East, 
Was  landed  on  the  dreary  defert  coaft. 
He  thus  the  Comrades  of  his  Toil  accoft. 

"C  O  M  E,    my  Boys,  with  rofy  Wine 

"Let  the  foaming  Bowl  be  crown'd, 
"Let  us  all  in  Mirth  combine, 

"And  Britain 's  Monarch  ftill  go  round. 
''Britain  and  Drake  reign  Sovereign  of  the  Sea, 
"Nor  fear,  where  DraJ^e  and  Britain  lead  the  Way. 

B2  "LET 


(12) 

"L  E  T    earth-born  Mortals  of  the  Land 

"On  gaping  Sots  their  Morals  palm; 
"We're  taught  more  Wisdom  by  our  Main, 
"Where's  fometimes  Storm,  and  fometimes  Calm. 
"Then  let's  caroufe;  To-morrow  we'll  again 
"Brave  the  rough  Buffets  of  the  boiftrous  Main." 

tmtt«««««wsmtw$»$^^ 

To  SYLVIA. 

Sent  by  the  Author  unknown. 
As  from  the  deep  Receffes  of  a  Grove, 
The  plaintive  Philomela  chants  her  Love; 
Herfelf  unfeen,  yet  through  the  neighbouring  Plain, 
Delightful  Shrills  the  melancholly  f train: 
So  ftrives  the  Mufe  with  bold  Attempt  to  fing, 
Harfh  tho'  her  Voice,  tho'  feeble  be  her  Wing, 
Happy  at  last  in  this,  that  ftill  unknown, 
She  trufts  the  Folly  to  herfelf  alone. 
Thrice  happier  ftill,. if,  with  her  faithful  Strain 
She  can  one  Moment  Sylvia's  Ear  detain; 

And 


(13) 

And  with  the  folitary  Tea,  can  fhare 
The  Glory  to  divert  the  penfive  Fair. 

ACCEPT,    bright  Maid,  this  tributary  Song; 
To  you  the  Labours  of  the  Mufe  belong: 
To  you  f he  f ings ;  infpired  by  your  name, 
She  kindles  with  the  Poet's  gen'rous  Flame. 
Nor  fcorn  her  Lay,  becaufe  unfeen,  unknown, 
She  modeft  roams  the  gloomy  Grove  alone. 
The  gurgling  Brook,  which  through  fome  Wood  does  ftray, 
And  in  foft  Mufick  glides  the  dusky  Way; 
Altho'  from  public  View  retir'd  her  Streams, 
Which  pendent  Trees  obscure  from  Phoebus  Beams, 
Yet  not  lefs  pleafing  is  her  num'rous  Roar, 
Lefs  f weet  her  Nectar,  or  lefs  cool  her  Shore. 


To 


(14) 


To    SYLVIA. 
An  Imitation  of  Anacreon. 
OFT    I  ftring  the  Lydian  Lyre, 
Oft  in  noble  Strains  afpire 
To  fing  the  Glories  of  that  Face, 
Each  fecret  Charm,  each  namelefs  Grace; 
But  ftill  the  difobedient  Strings  do  move 
In  foftest  Notes,  and  murmur  nought  but  Love. 

OFT  with  witty  quaint  Conceit, 
I  vainly  ftrive  to  celebrate 
That,  which  no  Colours  can  reveal 
Which  we  only  fee,  and  only  feel : 
But  ftill  the  difobedient  Strings  do  move 
In  fofteft  Notes,  and  murmur  nought  but  Love. 

FAREWELL,    wild  impetuous  Ode; 
Farewel,  Phazbus,  mighty  God 

Of 


(15) 

Of  well  turn'd  Wit;  with  all  your  Train, 
The  frantick  Off-fpring  of  the  Brain. 
But  welcome,  gentle  Lyre,  whofe  Strings  do  move 
In  fofteft  Notes,  and  murmur  nought  but  Love. 

TELL    her,  in  foft  pathetic  Strains, 

All  my  Anguifh,  all  my  Pains; 

Tell  her,  I  love,  I  rave,  I  die; 

I  dare  not  fpeak,  I  cannot  fly. 
Tell  her,  all  this,  ye  gentle  Strings,  that  move 
In  fofteft  Notes,  and  murmur  nought  but  Love. 


ANACREONTIQUE 

I  F    Gold  protracts  the  merry  Scene, 

And  partial  Death  obeys  its  Pow'r; 

With  prudent  Forecaft,  careful  Mien, 
I'll  amafs  the  fhining  Store. 

AND    if  his  grifley  Godship  come, 
I'll  divert  the  fatal  Dart. 
A 


(16) 

A  Purfe  he  wants  -----  Behold  the  Sum  ----- 
He'll  fcrape  obfequious,  and  depart. 

BUT    fince  reverfelefs  Fates  deny 
This  Virtue  to  the  glitt'ring  Ore; 
Tell  me,  Mortal,  tell  me,  why 

Should  I  the  gaudy  Duft  adore? 

THEN    let  the  ruddy  God  advance, 

And  fome  beauteous  lovefome  She; 
With  Mirth,  and  Joke,  and  Quirp,  and  Dance 
Thefe  alone  have  Joys  for  me. 


FABLE 

ONCE    upon  a  Time,  an  Afs, 
Bending  beneath  a  pond'rous  Mafs 
Of  holy  Lumber;  Reliques,  Bulls, 
Saints  Fingers,  Teeth,  and  facred  Sculls; 
Obferv'd,  where-e'er  he  came,  the  Crowd 
With  the  profoundeft  Rev'rence  bow'd, 

And 


(17) 

And  paid  their  Homage,  as  he  pafs'd, 
Which  to  himself  he  Thought  addrefs'd. 
Pleas'd  with  the  Thought,  the  awkard  Creature 
Affects  a  State  in  ev'ry  Feature, 
Struts  boldly  on,  af fumes  the  God, 
Receives  their  Incenfe  with  a  Nod, 
And  gracioufly  inclines  his  Ear 
To  the  fond  Rabble's  fenfelefs  Pray'r; 
Which  once  received,  his  Godfhip  fack 
Brays  harfh  his  Approbation  back. 

MORAL 

SEE  Scaurus  comes;  I  rev' rent  bow, 
And  give  his  Poft  the  Honour  due; 

Which  he,  poor  Afs,  miftaJ^es,  as  paid 
To  the  Vacuity  of  his  Head. 


EPIGRAM 


(18) 

ttm^^ 

EPIGRAM 

S  C  A  U  R  U  S    hates  Greek,  and  is  become 

Mere  Trojan  in  his  Spight; 
But  why  so  fierce  againft  the  Men, 

So  learned  and  polite? 

THE    Trojans  ftole,  and  kept  by  Force 

A  Dame,  elop'd  from  Duty; 
But  you  can't  plead  e'en  this  Pretence 

Of  having  ftole  one  B  E  A  U  T  Y. 


444^ 


To   a  FRIEND, 

Who  recommended  a  Wife  to  him. 
I    OWN,    the  Match,  you  recommend, 

Is  far  above  my  mean  Defert; 
I  own,  you've  acted  like  a  Friend, 
A  hearty,  kind,  and  gen'rous  Part. 

BUT 


(19) 

BUT  Marriage,  Sir,'s  a  ferious  Cafe; 

Matureft  Thought  fhould  chufe  a  Wife; 
Tho'  fome  aver,  the  wifeft  Way's 

To  think  upon  it  all  one's  Life. 

FABLE 

A  Ruftick  once,  on  Travel  bent, 
To  Oxford's  f acred  Manfions  went; 
From  Place  to  Place  unheeded  ftray'd, 
Where-e'er  his  wand'ring  Fancy  led. 
By  Chance  at  Length  betray'd,  he  came 
Near  Bodleys  ever- f  acred  Frame; 
Where  Two  learn'd  Clerks,  in  deep  Debate, 
Were  fettling  Locke's  and  *  Ary's  Fate. 

SURROUNDED  by  a  fneering  Crowd, 
The  Stray  in  deep  Attention  flood. 
Till  up  there  ftep'd  a  pert  young  Blade, 
And  thus  his  coxcomb  Wit  difplay'd. 

*Can/  Word  for  Aristotle. 

C2  Well 


(20) 

Well  honeft  Hob,  how  like  you  this? 
Our  Oxford  Quirps  and  Quiddities? 
This  Latin  Tongue  has  Charms,  unknown 
To  the  harfh  Accent  of  our  own. 
Bef ides,  the  Lads  are  brisk  and  tight. 
Which  think  you,  Sir,  is  in  the  Right? 
That  matters  not,  replies  the  Clown, 
If  I  can  tell,  who's  in  the  Wrong. 
CONCEDITUR,  rejoins  our  Spark, 
For  if  ti'n't  Light,  you  know,  'tis  Dark. 
But  I  impatient  wait  to  hear, 
Which  your  deep  Judgment  fhall  declare. 
Then  mark,  reply'd  th'unletter'd  Sage, 
The  Man,  that  fell  into  a  Rage. 
Without  much  La/fn,  I  proclaim, 
His  Notions  wrong,  and  he  to  blame. 
Ill-Humour,  more  exprefs  than  Words, 
Of  this  a  flagrant  Proof  affords; 
And  that  he's  vex'd,  within  to  find 
The  plain  Conviction  of  his  Mind. 

MORAL 


(21) 

MORAL 

HOW    oft  do  angry  Fools  declare 
Their  Errors,  in  the  learned  War? 
Obfcure  their  Theme,  their  Matter  deep, 
From  common  Senfe  their  Faults  might  keep. 
But  Paffions,  thofe  unerring  Signs, 
Shew  ev'ry  Hob,  where  Truth  inclines. 


SONG 

YOUNG    Poets,  in  Love, 

Will  call  from  above 
Cytherea,  dref t  all  in  her  Graces  and  Airs ; 
And  will  tell  their  fond  dreams  of  Ida's  foft  Grove, 

Of  Cupids,  of  Doves,  and  of  Carrs. 

SOME      Cloe  belide, 

Or  Sylvia  muft  hide 

The  Name  of  the  Fair  that  pof feffes  their  Heart. 
Thus  sighing  in  Pomp  of  Poetical  Pride, 

They  vainly  make  Shew  of  their  Art. 


NO 


(22) 

N  O  Poet  am  I, 
And  no  Dame  of  the  Sky, 

No  Fiction  fhall  ever  dif  grace  my  bright  Flame; 
That  the  Truth  is  most  beautiful,  none  will  deny, 
When  I  tell  them,  that  -----  is  her  Name. 

THEN    fill  up  my  Glafs; 

Here's  a  Health  to  the  Lafs: 
As  for  Venus,  I  fairly   now  bid  you  Adieu; 
Since  on  her  you  can  never  reflect  any  Praife, 

I'll  not  labour  to  compliment  you. 


ANACREONTIQUE 
Let  others  in  Heroicks  tell, 
How  Marlb 'rough  fought,  or  Ilium  fell; 
For  me,  I  will,  in  humble  Verfe, 
My  foft  Captivity  rehearfe. 

N  O    hardy  Foot,  no  Warrior  Horfe, 
No  batt'ring  Rams,  or  Ships  of  Force 

Could 


(23) 

Could  ever  caufe  the  fad  Diftrefs, 
That  ravages  within  my  Breaft: 
But  'tis  a  different  Kind  of  War, 
That  fpreads  it's  fweet  Deftruction  far, 
And  fhot  from  beauteous  Cazlias  Eye, 
Makes  me  not  only  love,  but die. 

^•44«*44444*444" 

To  SYLVIA. 

WHEN    deck'd  in  pompous  Majefty,  the  Sun 
The  fteepy  Height  of  Heav'ns  Afcent  has  won; 
Too  bright  the  Glory,  and  too  fierce  the  Day, 
The  feeble  Shepherd  fhuns  the  gorgeous  Ray. 
The  fame  our  Care,  tho'  different  be  our  Fate: 
He  pipes  fecure  beneath  the  Beeche's  Height; 
While  I,  alafs!  in  vain  retire  from  Love 
To  the  cool  Covert  of  the  fhady  Grove. 
In  vain  I  fly!  the  Grove  denies  Relief 
To  the  foft  Torments  of  a  Lover's  Grief. 
If  with  the  new-born  Light  I  chance  to  ftray, 

And  through  the  Woodland  fhape  my  liftlefs  Way. 

The 


(24) 

The  matted  Grafs,  the  Leaves  and  pearly  Dew 
Breathe  of  the  Morn,  and  utter  nought  but  you. 
Your  Voice  infpires  the  feather'd  Songfter's  Throat. 
Sweet  through  the  Grove  refounds  the  various  Note; 
Yet  fweeter  break  the  Accents  from  thy  Tongue, 
Than  the  foft  Warbling  of  the  tuneful  Throng. 
All's  full  of  you  ;  the  Plants,  the  Flow'rs,  the  Trees, 
The  gurgling  Rill,  and  foft  etherial  Breeze. 
Through  Nature's  Works  I  find  but  frefh  Alarms, 
And  trace  th'unfinished  Sketches  of  thofe  matchlefs 

Charms. 


ANACREONTIC 
OLD  Poets  fing  the  Dame,  to  Stone 
Converted  by  fove's  radiant  Son: 
How    P  r  o  g  n  e    builds  her  clayey  Cell 
In  Chimnies,  where  fhe  once  did  dwell. 
For  me,  (did  Fate  permit  to  ufe, 
Whatever  Forms  our  Fancies  chufe) 


(25) 

I'd  be  my  lovely  Sylvia's  Glafs, 
Still  to  reflect  her  beauteous  Face; 
I'd  be  the  pure  and  limpid  Wave, 
In  which  my  Fair  delights  to  lave; 
I'd  be  her  Garment,  ftill  to  hide 
Her  snowy  Limbs,  with  decent  Pride; 
I'd  be  the  Girdle,  to  embrace 
The  gradual  Taper  of  her  Waft; 
I'd  be  her  Tippet,  ftill  to  prefs 
The  snowy  Velvet  of  her  Breaft; 
But  if  the  rigid  Fates  denied 
Such  Ornaments  of  Grace  and  Pride, 
I'd  be  her  very  Shoe,  that  fhe 
With  fcornful  Tread  might  trample  me. 

TO  SYLVIA, 
On  Approach  of  Winter 
C  0  M  E,  my  Silvia,  come  away; 
Youth  and  Beauty  will  not  ftay; 
Let's  enjoy  the  present  now. 

D  Heark, 


(26) 

Heark,  tempeftuous  Winter's  Roar, 
How  it  blufters  at  the  Door, 

Charg'd  with  Frofts,  and  Storms,  and  Snow. 

SEATED    near  the  crackling  Fire, 
Let's  indulge  our  fond  Defire, 

Carelefs  of  rough  Boreas  Blaft: 
Let  us  teach  the  blooming  Youth, 
What  Joys  attend  on  Love  and  Truth; 

How  much  they  pleafe,  how  long  they  laft. 

THE    am'rous  Warblers  of  the  Grove, 
That  in  fweet  Carols  chant  their  Love, 

Can  only  fing,  whilft  Spring  infpires; 
But  let  us  (hew,  no  Age,  no  Time, 
No  warring  Seafons,  frozen  Clime, 

Can  damp  the  Warmth  of  our  Defires. 


An 


(27) 


An  EPISTLE 

To Efq. 

THOU,    whole  warm  Soul's  still  eager  to  commend 
The  feeble  efforts  of  thy  Rhimefter  Friend, 

Ingenious ,  what  on  Cornwall's  Coaft 

Doft  thou  devife?     Of  what  new  Labour  boaft? 
High  on  a  Clift,  which  e'en  tranfcends  the  Flight 
Of  Shakespears  boldest  Mufe,  doft  thou  delight 
The  ftudious  Mind?     Or  on  the  fubject  Shore 
Stray  lonely,  Nature's  Secrets  to  explore? 
What  doft  thou  do?     Into  the  Mine  descend, 
And  view  the  kindred  Ores  their  Maffes  blend? 
Or  elfe,  in  Search  of  Plants,  excurfive  rove 
Through  the  gay  Mead  and  venerable  Grove? 

PERHAPS    to  Love  and  Gallantry  inclin'd, 
You  now  unbend  and  humanize  the  Mind 
With  Paffions,  gentle,  foft,  engaging,  kind; 

D2  which 


447258 


(28) 

Which  rife  above  the  Pedant's  dull  Pretence, 
And  add  a  Grace  and  Elegance  to  Senfe. 
But  no  -------- 

I  know  you  better;  thefe  can  only  find 

A  fecond  Place  in  the  exalted  Mind. 

From  the  vain  World  retir'd,  you  often  rove, 

And  Court  Self-Converfe  in  the  lonely  Grove. 

Or  in  the  Silence  of  fome  awful  Wood, 

You  con  th'important  Leffon  to  be  good: 

Descend  into  yourfelf,  with  Search  fevere, 

And  prune  each  latent  evil,  budding  there: 

Weigh  ev'ry  Thought;  on  what  each  Notion  f  lands: 

What  Reason  dictates,  and  your  God  commands. 


*****j.****.***4^^ 

*****  **************************  ************** 

On    the    Corruptions    of    the    STAGE 
Long  did  the  Stage  with  nervous  Senfe  delight, 
Exalt  the  ravish'd  Soul,  and  charm  the  Sight; 
Whilft  Shafyespear,  Row  and  all  thofe  Sons  of  Fame, 
(Our  greateft  Glory,  and  our  greateft  Shame) 

With 


(29) 

With  lofty  Buskin,  or  facetious  Lay, 
Held  o'er  the  captive  Mind  delpotic  Sway. 
With  noble  Ardor  then  they  trod  the  Scene, 
We  came,  we  faw,  we  gaz'd  ourfelves  to  Men. 


At  length  from  Latian  Shores,  infectious  Clime! 
Came  the  foft  Cadence  and  inervate  Chime. 

^mp/w'on-like,  thofe  modern  Sons  of  Art 
Could  chain  the  Senfe  and  captivate  the  Heart. 
Oh  wond'rous  Skill!  but  mark  the  Syren  Rocks; 
He  Blocks  to  Men,  they  Men  transform'd  to  Blocks. 

NEXT    Harlequin,  ingenious  Antique,  came; 
The  fame  his  Magic,  and  his  Sourle  the  fame. 
With  Kick  facetious,  or  with  witty  Grin, 

He  rais'd  our  Laughter but  expos'd  our  Brain. 

In  vain  Mercullo  jests,  poor  Juliet  mourns  in  vain. 
Phogh!  who  can  bear  th'intolerable  Strain! 
Where  ftrong  and  manly  senle  difturbs  our  Eafe, 
And  Paffions,  too  affecting  e'er  to  pleafe. 


(30) 

To  burning  Houfes,  Monlters,  and  Grimace, 

To  flying  Bottles,  Wands,  and  waving  Seas, 

To  cheated  Cuckolds,  and  the  bold  t  Rogere, 

Illuftrious  Hero!  pendent  in  the  Air; 

To  thefe  we  fly,  and  leave  thofe  Sons  of  Spleen, 

The  Fools  of  Senfe,  to  doat  on  Shafaespear's  Scene. 

MACHEATHai  laft  arofe  with  vent'rous  Wing, 
And  laugh'd  away  the  Brethren  of  the  String. 
But  whilft  he  cures  the  Head-Ake's  trifling  Pain, 
With  raging  Frenzy  he  infects  the  Brain. 
To  awkard  Imitations  next  we  came, 
The  naufeous  Snuffs  of  true  poetick  Flame. 
From  foreign  Trifling  and  unmanly  Tone, 
We  turn  to  downright  Nonfenfe  of  our  own. 


French  Player  at  the  Old  Houfe. 
FINIS 


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